Advent at Midlife

So this woman wrote my current emotional state. And before anyone tries to tell me that this is not my midlife, I know, but I have subconsciously lived my teens and twenties as though I’ll die at the same age as my dad, who popped off at 52 when I was 14. Which led to a whole lot of fun and games in a short space of time. 

Therefore, this feels kind of like midlife from one perspective. If this is the middle of my life, I will live twelve years longer than him and that’s good going in my book. I’m not living so fast anymore, and I intend to get really old and cranky... 💕

But it’s interesting to note the extra layers of stuff that grief leaves behind for us to sort through. Wednesday was the 18th anniversary of his death, and only this year have I been realising this aspect of how his departure shaped me. And it’s beautiful really, because it just shows how important he was, and is, to me.

I just stumbled across this poem last night and it is totally where I’m at just now. The irony is that as soon as I stopped rushing, I realised how much waiting I had also been doing, and then I realised I was no longer waiting, either. Because waiting and rushing are the same. They both assume that there is more than now, and that now is not enough. Or that I was not enough. Turns out it is, and I am. So that's nice 😉

It’s a lovely place to be, emotionally. I literally burn my best candles every night before bed. And I’m grateful. ✨

Advent at Midlife, by Mary Anne Perrone

I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days.

I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.

I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task

I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.

I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived.

I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now.

I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.

I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.

I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.

I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.

I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle.

I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe.

Photo: Christmas Day 2018 at mum’s

Art in photo: Lucy Turnbull Photography 

In memory of Lord Paddy Ashdown

Politics is indeed a very tribal business, and tonight, my tribe is grieving. Paddy Ashdown was already a hero to me, but when I met him a few months ago I was in already in awe when he gifted me some time and some extremely kind, encouraging, inspiring and hilarious words. He delivered this pep talk with his trademark cutting wit, dry humour and gung ho attitude. So sane, so direct, so clear in his observations, so willing to help. You can see by my face how he had the power to just make a person feel fantastic and moreover, he made us feel brave. He made a point of introducing his amazing wife Jane, for whom we are all feeling so much tonight. He tried in vain to get her to join us in this photo, and his adoration of her was so evident. Paddy was a legend, his quirks are the stuff of folklore within our tribe and the world is richer for his service to it, both as a Marine and in politics. Crying as I write this, but if anyone deserves a really great rest, it’s him. I’ll always remember this last full moon of 2018 as Paddy’s moon, and I’ll whisper a prayer that we can all find some of the stuff that he was made of. He was the best of us.